


Mourning dove

by LostMe



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Body Worship, English is still not my native language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, my attempt at smut, somewhat compromised Newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 13:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMe/pseuds/LostMe
Summary: The knock on her door was so soft that it took some time for Tina to separate its sound from the raindrops still aggressively hitting her closed window. More annoyed than before, she asked, in a rather harsh tone:“Who is there? What do you want at this hour?”“Tina… I… I’m not…”“Newt! You are soaked! What were you doing in the rain?”“I didn’t… Leta… I’m in trouble Tina. I didn’t know where else to go…”“Well, for starters you should come inside.”





	Mourning dove

Although nothing particularly bad had happened to classify that day as horrible, the weather in itself was enough for Tina to find herself rather miserable. Holding a hot cup of cocoa in one hand, she absentmindedly looked though the window to the freezing rain falling outside. New York was completely gray in weathers like that, with only one or other poor soul running in the streets, trying to find shelter against the water and the cold. Even they were grey under the rain. The few people that had just given up or just didn’t have anywhere else to go had long ago blended with the colors outside to be really noticeable. She took a sip of her drink and sighed in passing gratitude for the roof above her head and the little warmth brought by the cocoa and the meager heating in her small apartment. She should be thankful for small mercies, she knew that. But in an evening as grey as that it was sometimes hard to not be a little influenced by the general mood. Maybe if Queenie was there, with her colors and warmth… 

Tina sighed once again and walked away from the miserable view on the window. Deciding that she should enjoy her rare opportunity and go to bed early, she changed her dark grey officer clothes for her faded rose pajamas and brushed her teeth. In her small bathroom, with the low light to save energy, she appeared rather sepia in color, reflected in an old mirror. The change in hue did not improve her mood. Settling in the conviction that none of it would matter once the lights had been turned off, she did just that and went to bed. She was asleep even before her head hit the pillow.

 

 

The knock on her door was so soft that it took some time for Tina to separate its sound from the raindrops still aggressively hitting her closed window. Thinking she somehow had dreamed it, she pressed her face against her pillow to try and go back to sleep, but then another faint knock, followed by a whisper of her name, called her attention. Tina got out of bed with a groan and hastily put a sweeter on over her pajamas. Whoever was at her door that late into the night (or early in the morning, depending on the importance of the matter at hand once she discovered it) was better to not expect any cordiality from her.

She tried to see into the peephole who was into the other side of the door, but whoever it was had leaned into said door and blocked her view. More annoyed than before, she asked, in a rather harsh tone:

“Who is there? What do you want at this hour?”

“Tina… I… I’m not…”

Even without any answer to her questions, she recognized that voice, even not ever hearing that tone from him before. Once she hastily unlocked and opened her door, the hunched figure of her recently absent friend and once love interest stood in front of her.

“Newt! You are soaked! What were you doing in the rain?”

“I didn’t… Leta… I’m in trouble Tina. I didn’t know where else to go…”

“Well, for starters you should come inside.”

Tina pulled the man inside her apartment. Once the door was again locked, she turned to look at him, awkwardly standing in the middle of her living room. When they were younger, Newt was also a strange explosion of colors to her. Reddish hair, freckled skin, a strange attachment to a vivid blue coat and a preference for brightly colored socks and scarves. Tina didn’t used to mind unless it crashed with her own outfit. Such a silly thing to be worried about…

But now… With his hair and coat (not the blue one, although she couldn’t really discern its color) soaked though and his skin very pale under his freckles… Even he looked a little gray, if it wasn’t for the bright purple of the wounds on his face or for the too red blood on his split lip.

“Newt! What happened to you?” She asked him, exasperating taking his face into her hand to take a better look. That was when she noticed that his skin was ice cold.

“I… Someone from that Snakes thing came asking for money, I think? I asked them to leave. They didn’t… I… I must have blackened out at some point but… I woke up on the street, no phone, no wallet, no keys. I’m sure I had it with me. Leta wouldn’t let me in so I… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Coming to your police officer friend was actually a very good idea, Newt. Come on, you’re freezing.”

Tina took a hold on his hand and gently pulled him to her small, sepia bathroom. Albeit reluctant, Newt allowed her to manhandle him.

“There must still be some hot water left. Take a shower. I will bring you a towel and some clothes. You can leave your clothes on the basked on the corner; I can wash and dry them for you to wear in the morning.”

Newt murmured a strangled ‘thank you’ that Tina more felt than heard. She turned to look at him one last time before closing the door. In the low light, she was not certain if the wetness in his face was rain or tear tracks. Since it didn’t matter any way or the other, she let the thought be in order to find him a towel and some clothes.

The towel she brought him was once a pale blue, but was so bleached it has become grey. Somehow that was very fitting, in a rather depressing way. The clothes were new, but also ashen in color. Tina preferred the police men’s uniform to train, often opting for articles of clothing one or two sizes too large for her. She and Newt had almost the same height. She just hoped that it would be a somehow comfortable fit, even if only for him to have something to sleep in.

She knocked on the bathroom door to let him know she was there, and called to him that she would let the items she was carrying on the floor, next to the door. He didn’t answer her, but she was sure he had heard. Not even a full minute after that, the shower stopped running and she heard him opening the door to get the towel and clothing. To the closed door, she asked:

“Have you had anything to eat? Do you want a cocoa? Tea?”

Newt opened the door, clothed into Tina’s training T-shirt and sweatpants. They fitted him so well that for one fleeting moment she wondered if she should have brought him some of her socks too. The thought dissipated when he asked her, in a very subdued tone:

“Tea? Do you actually have tea?”

“Yeah. I just… I kinda never stopped buying the stuff. I like it, reminds me of more colorful times, I think.”

“Do you think England was colorful?”

“The gardens always were. In my memory, at least. So, what will you have?”

“Tea would be wonderful. Thank you.”

Tina took her time preparing one cup of tea for Newt and one more cup of cocoa to herself, while she dispatched Newt to seat on the sofa. In the meantime, however, she picked up Newt’s dirty clothes and dumped then in the wash machine. Once she came with the hot drinks, she noticed that although Newt had folded into himself he was still trembling. She gave him his cup of tea, but before seating in the opposite chair she dragged an old but comfortable blanket from the back of the sofa and dropped it over Newt’s shoulders. The blanket was a deep peacock blue. She smiled.

“It is a hash purple eye you’ve got. I’m afraid there is nothing we can do about it besides letting it heal naturally. The same about the rest of your face, really.”

“It is not a problem. I’m not expected anywhere in the following days.”

“Did you finish your book?”

At least the last time they talked, well before Queenie, Jacob, Leta and all the mess, Newt was shyly talking about writing a book based on his PhD thesis. Tina was so proud of him back then…

“No. I started it but… It was not a good idea for a book, anyway.” Newt said, with his face half hided into his cup, the rest obscured by his long fringe. When was the last time he had cut his hair?

“What? How come it was not a good idea? You wrote a brilliant thesis Newt! It would have been an equally brilliant book, if not even better! Why would you think that?”

“I wrote something. It wasn’t good. Nobody liked it. I found it better to let it be. I think Mr. Worms… My potential editor is still a little mad about my failure.”

“Newt… How many people you had reading it?”

“Not that many, I admit. Leta was so bored by it she couldn’t even get though the first page. Theseus said he didn’t have the time for a draft on previously published and unintelligible scientific amounted facts. My editor himself was kind enough to say it could be improved, but… Why to waste everybody’s time with rubbish?”

Tina wanted to argue further. She had helped Newt to grammar check his thesis (not that he needed it, but he was so nervous about committing any mistake that she could not help but, well, help) and he was a very talented story taller and writer, even within the walls and restrictions of the scientific writing. She had no doubt a book meant for the general population would be absolutely fantastic, at the very minimum. She had just opened her mouth to ask him if he still had the drafts when she saw him wincing while lowering his cup on the small table between them.

“Newt? Are you in any pain?” She asked him.

“My left side is a little sore. Nothing to worry about, I think.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

Newt stayed some seconds in silence, with his eyes strangely unfocused, before shaking his head and offering her a small smile.

“I’m always so much trouble…” He said while she kneeled in front of him. Over her fluffy rug that always were at odds with her otherwise simple apartment.

Tina opted to be practical about it, rather than discuss that he had never been any trouble, at all. The worst was the timing, but it was not like he could schedule the best moment to get beaten and dumped into the street. Ignoring his comment, for now at least, she neared him and gently lifted his T-shirt, to better look at his side. What she saw took her breath away.

If the only thing she noticed were the angry purple and black bruises over his left side (Oh God… He must have at least one bruised rib. Did they keep kicking him once he was down?) it would have been horrific enough. The problem was that she saw months worth of abuse in his ashen skin. Newt was covered in small scars, none of them looking like they had been an accident. And he was so thin… So distraughtly thin! What have happened to him in the year they have spent apart?

“I know it is not a pleasing view. But I didn’t think that warning you would change anything… You were always so determined…”

“Newt… Did Leta…”

“Better than the freckles, she used to say. When it became apparent that being less ugly was futile I tried to blend in, to avoid embarrassing her. Less of me to see, you know? She always liked those lean models we see in television. I think it didn’t work, after all. Maybe it is for the best. To conform.”

Tina felt her eyes tearing up, but refused to cry at that moment. What have Leta done to Newt? The Newt she remembered was shy, awkward even, but not overly concerned about his appearance and never NEVER doubtful about his own capacity. This Newt in front of her was but a shadow of that man who had captivated her heart, so long ago. 

Letting the T-shirt to cover his stomach again, she slowly threaded her fingers though his hair, removing the fringe from over his astonishing green eyes (had he let it grow to hide part of his face?). He was bruised, debilitated, but still to intensely beautiful… 

“Newt… Can I… Can I kiss you?” She asked, not knowing what else to do in order to escape the horrid sensation of chocking she was feeling.

“Why would you want to do that?” He asked her, eyes strangely unfocused. “You can do better, you know? What happened to Mr. Graves?”

Mr. Graves, as in Tina’s actual boss, has been a mistake fuelled by too much beer, what in turn had been fuelled by the news that Queenie was pregnant with the child of a man who could only dream about a stupid bakery while wasting way in manual and underpaid labor. Tina didn’t know that Newt knew about that one night big mistake on her part, more than one year ago.

“Mr. Graves was never a possibility Newt, not to me, and not to himself. I was distressed about Queenie. I called you, you didn’t come. He did, instead. It happened. It was only that. He is my boss now, can you imagine how awkward that was?” Tina replied, in the gentlest tone she could muster.

After some minutes of silence, Newt finally broke the silence:

“I was already at your home when you sent me that text. Queenie wouldn’t stop crying, then. I had flowers for you. Silly me, I thought you would like then. I thought that you could ever like someone like me.”

Tina liked Newt very much over then. Was that what happened? In the middle of the chaos that her life had became she didn’t see Newt trying to be more than friends with her and unknowingly rejected him? Pushed him in that toxic relationship with Leta? When had things became so strained between then?

“I haven’t seen you properly for over a year Newt. Why did you come here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go. You… The memory of you is all that I have left.”

Tina closed her eyes and felt one single tear escaping them. After some seconds in silence, she opened then to look at Newt’s green eyes glued to her brown ones. Slowly, giving him plenty of warning to escape if he so wished, she leaned in and placed her lips over his.

When remembering this moment, their first kiss, Tina would like to be able to remember the feeling of Newt’s body relaxing into her embrace. Of his warm and full lips against hers. Of the way his tongue had shyly asked her lips for entrance. None of this happened. If it was possible, Newt appeared even tenser than before. His unmoving lips were dry and chapped. He appeared pained by the contact.

“I’m sorry.” Tina breathed against his skin, reluctant to let him go even though the awkward situation they were in.

After some seconds, Newt shyly asked her if she would mind to do that again. Tina’s smile was small and a little sad when she kissed him again. And again. On the fifth time Newt responded and by tenth the gesture was an almost believable mimicry of the real thing.

By that time, Tina noticed an amount of things that could be summarized into the fact that Newt appeared rather uncomfortable. First of all, he was in a very awkward position that must have been paining his bruised side for a while. Secondly, he was taking the moment with a desperate air of someone who was certain that could not be for real, or last very much longer. He also hadn’t relaxed under her touch, at all. Lastly, somewhere along that mess, he had got hard.

“Newt?” She asked him, looking down at the tent on his sweatpants.

“Sorry. Just ignore it.” He said, looking somewhat betrayed by his own body. With a conformed expression he gently pushed her far enough so he could untangle his legs and lie on the couch. He hugged the blanked tighter around himself and asked, in just a whisper:

“Can I stay here until morning? I will find a way to compensate… I swear it.”

At first Tina took it as a clear dismissal, but when she went to kiss his hair and assure him that he was welcome to stay for as long as he wished, he actually leaned against her touch. Almost like he was touch starved but didn’t know how to ask for it. Or better yet, he had asked for one more kiss, and then his body had reacted the way it had and he thought that it needed to end, because it couldn’t go any further.

Tina considered herself an intelligent woman. She used to make some really rational decisions in her life. Queenie as the emotional one. For years to come, Tina will never know why she did what she did, even if she never regretted it. Still caressing Newt’s hair, she asked in a rather bold tone:

“Newt… Would you like me to take care of it?”

“What?” Newt asked, eyes suddenly very wide open.

“You must be uncomfortable. I can take care of it for you. I want too.”

A deep blush overcame Newt’s features and for one moment Tina wondered if that was the response of an adolescent Newt to his first sexual encounter. She was pretty sure she had made him confess how it was to her in a drunk state some afternoon when he was taking disciplines during his PhD. She would look into this memory other day, though.

“Why would you… I mean… It is not necessa… I… Why?”

“I’m worried about you, you know? It would be very reassuring if we could share something real. Newt… When was the last time that something felt good, really good for you?”

Newt averted his eyes, but Tina could read them: too long, long enough for he not remembering or it being just irrelevant.

Tina leaned into his space and kissed the uninjured corner of his mouth. She then trailed some small kisses to his chin and neck.

“Would you let me do it? 

Newt gave her a tense nod. She figured it was the best she would get for now.

“Tell me if it gets uncomfortable or you’d rather I do something else.”

“Okay.” He replied, while allowing her to take his T-shirt off.

Tina took her time kissing first the freckled skin on his collar bone, to then mouth and lick the myriad of tiny and large scars around his chest, while her hand roamed over his uninjured right side and shoulders. Only when Newt became somewhat pliant under her touch, when his still slightly trembling hands landed on her waist, did Tina kissed her way back to his neck, whispering into the warming skin:

“I’ve always found you so uniquely beautiful. So well proportioned… Like someone had taken the time to actually drawn your features…”

“Tina…” Newt half groaned, half sobbed.

“It is true. Even under this patchwork of bruises you are still so breathtaking… Every freckle… Even these heartbreaking scars… All that sums up into you…” Newt groaned again and Tina took that opportunity to deftly lower herself onto his body and to lick at his tumescent right nipple, while her right hand gently caressed the other one.

His reaction was instantaneous and he arched under her touch, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth. Aware of his bruised side and still a little worried about his ribs, Tina decided it was not really the time to tease him any further and slid her hand under his waistband, taking hold of his hard member. Newt responded by moaning into her touch and throwing his head back against the couch’s armrest. She caressed his flesh, carefully in the beginning and with a little bit more of vigor at the end, time in which she had also lowered his sweatpants enough to free him. It was the only clean pair she had to offer him, after all.

It didn’t take long for Newt to climax and the majority of his come had being caught by her hand. Tina, as practical as ever, had a fleeting though about STD even though she had touched him only with her hands, when she remembered that many of the kisses they had traded had tasted like blood. Concern about if Newt was clean or not left to be obsessed at a future time, Tina cleaned her hand into one nearby discarded sock (hers, though she didn’t remember where the other peace of the pair was), readjusted Newt’s sweatpants and neared his face.

She was going to cockily ask him how was it, when she noticed he was on the verge of falling asleep. Slightly amused, she fished the blanket from under his body and arranged it over him, confident he would be warm and comfortable for the rest of the night.

“Always… Always thought about it… Being in love with you since…” Newt murmured, while hugging the blanket and adjusting to a more comfortable position in the couch.

“Sleep Newt. We can talk about it in the morning. Not too long now, anyway.”

“Morning… I have until the morning…”

“Rest Newt. We have all the time in the world…”

Tina wasn’t sure if Newt has heard her, but it didn’t matter. Content he was finally relaxed and resting, Tina got up, drank the remains of her now cold cocoa and went to the service are, put Newt clothes into the dryer. After that she dosed for a few hours, in which she dreamed about colorful gardens and strong horses and redheaded stubborn and beautiful boys.

In the next morning, Tina was again looking though the window holding a cup of coffee when Newt awoke and changed into his now dry clothes. Tina, who was rather taken by the blue sky outside, was somewhat disconcerted about Newt’s gray and white clothes.

“Tina… About last night…” Newt began, but Tina interrupted him.

“It was a fluke. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes… Of course not…” Newt nodded, resigned, looking at his shoes.

“I have work to do, you know. I want you to come with me to the delegacy and file a complaint against Leta and another one for those gang bastards who hurt you. Then we will retrieve your things and once I’ve got your wallet back we need to buy you some new clothes. I’ve seen a rather lovely blue coat on display not three streets from here just last week. Then I fully expect you to take me to a lovely dinner in my preferred Italian restaurant, where I would be delighted if you showed me what you’ve written for your book so far. If you eat everything in your plate and is comfortable with the idea at night, we may come back and try this sex thing again. On my bed this time. It reminds me, do we need to test you? For STD, I mean?”

Newt was so astonished that he could only gap at Tina. In the end he scratched his neck and murmured:

“You know, my editor has sent me an e-mail a couple of weeks ago asking if I was willing to rewrite some parts of the chapters I had and compromise on a timetable. Maybe if you could read what I have and give me some insight in means to improve it…”

“Oh, I would love to!” Tina said, smiling sweetly while forcefully taking his hand and pulling him across the apartment. “Now come on, we have some bad guys to apprehend!”

“And just for the record, I’m clean.”

“Good. You still need more colorful clothes. You look like a beaten mourning dove. A very skinny one.”

“I…”

“It’s okay. Love will find a way.”

Newt smiled then. He could work with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> The first time I watched this movie and just thought: Gez, someone needs to give this boy (Newt) a blowjob. This entire fic was about that and in the end it didn't happened... Could someone just write it? Please?
> 
> Feedback is very much appreciated!


End file.
